


Silk

by hope_s



Series: Heistwives Toybox [20]
Category: Ocean's 8 (2018)
Genre: Bondage, Canon Compliant, Canon Timeline, Debbie Pov, F/F, Film Timeline, Fluff, Fluff and Smut, Forgiveness, Kissing, Light Angst, Multiple Orgasms, Post-Beach, Pre-Heist, Scarves, Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-16
Updated: 2020-05-16
Packaged: 2021-03-02 23:14:02
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,634
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24214984
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hope_s/pseuds/hope_s
Summary: Lou has decided to stay on board even with Debbie framing Claude. Debbie feels that she doesn't deserve Lou's loyalty.
Relationships: Lou Miller & Debbie Ocean, Lou Miller/Debbie Ocean
Series: Heistwives Toybox [20]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1583962
Comments: 18
Kudos: 30





	Silk

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Netterz](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Netterz/gifts).



> Fulfilling the prompt to have Lou ask Debbie to tie her up :)
> 
> Also, shout out to the Tumblr anon who requested Debbie and Lou sitting on the couch and Lou saying "your lips are so soft, I could kiss them all day." I've included that here as well. 
> 
> This fic takes place a couple days after "Something Old, Something New." It's also a thematic prequel to "The First Day."
> 
> Enjoy!

**(March 2018)**

“Becker.”

“What about him?” Debbie asked through a sigh, looking up from the spread of magazines in front of her. Finding an appropriate designer was essential, but Lou’s searching, curious eyes, assessing her from across the table, were important, too.

Lou leaned forward, elbows on the poker table, chin resting on her entwined hands. “We both know that shivving a button off his shirt wasn’t about closure.”

“It was mother-of-pearl.”

“ _Debbie…_ ”

Debbie shrugged and smirked. “I…might have a darker motive.”

Lou raised her eyebrows. “And that would be…?”

Debbie looked back down at her magazine and nonchalantly turned a few pages. “Someone needs to take the fall for this, and he—”

“No, Debbie,” Lou said shortly.

Debbie looked up at her, annoyance catching in her throat. She narrowed her eyes.

Lou tilted her head, considering Debbie. “Too risky, Debs. You can’t _ever_ let this get personal.” She pointed a finger at her. “Remember last time? You were so caught up in showing off for Danny, and that’s where things started to go wrong.”

Debbie rolled her eyes and crossed her arms tightly over her chest. “And what Claude did to me, you don’t think that was personal?”

“So, you’re going to sink to his level?”

“You know what? Forget it,” Debbie said, holding up her hands in a show of surrender.

“Fine.”

“Fine.”

_And then…_

**(April 2018)**

“You better tell me this is not what I think it is.”

Debbie looked at her, heart pounding in her chest, because she couldn’t deny it now. She kept her face impassive.

“Claude Becker,” Lou spat.

“I didn’t do that.”

_And…_

“You frame him, I walk.”

_And after…_

“Claude isn’t the priority, I promise,” Debbie told her. Lou’s expression was cold, matching the cold grey cinderblocks that made up the walls of her office in the club. Debbie had followed her here in the chilly mist that had made a timely descent over Brooklyn mere minutes after Lou had stormed away from her on the beach.

“What is it about him? Why can’t you just…I don’t know…let him go?” Debbie caught a pleading note in Lou’s tone.

Debbie stumbled through an explanation, but she didn’t have answers, nothing was certain. Claude had hurt her, but she hadn’t processed it, _couldn’t_ process. Not yet.

“You’re scared this is a mistake even now, but you can’t bear for it to be anyone else,” Lou said eventually, parsing through Debbie’s babbling.

“Yes.”

**

**May 2018**

Everything was set. The blind spot was perfect – even larger than Debbie had anticipated. Tammy was ensconced at Vogue and actually enjoying herself. Rose had been whisked away to Daphne’s penthouse suite for final fittings, returning every night past midnight with her hair even messier than usual. Amita had finished the fake jewels, and Lou had packaged them neatly into waterproof bundles. God knew where Constance was, but Debbie knew that by Monday morning, she would be more than ready. And somewhere across town, Claude Becker was preening himself, thinking that he had landed the opportunity of his career – publicity on the arm of Daphne Kluger.

Debbie smirked at the thought, eyes closed. The sunlight, pouring in from the tall windows of the loft, played across her face. She lost herself in the warmth, in the steady tempo of Glenn Gould’s interpretation of the “Aria” from Bach’s _Goldberg Variations_ – simple and even, meticulous in every detail, an algorithm of perfection. She knew each element of the phrasing, which notes were held, which Gould rushed past on a journey somewhere else. His ornamentation lilted and swung from the expected to the bizarre, unpredictable to an amateur connoisseur. Debbie’s expert ear anticipated every nuance, planned for each change before it occurred. The job was going to work.

But Debbie’s smirk faded as Gould launched into the Variations, speeding ahead and swirling through the coloratura like a stream in a storm – just on the wrong side of frantic, overflowing the banks. Claude still turned her stomach, and Debbie was still scared. He was smart, she knew that. She also knew that she was smarter, she _could_ fool him, but she couldn’t convince herself it would be easy. There was risk, and normally she loved that part, but this time…well, the stakes were higher, she reasoned. Yes, that had to be it. That had to be the reason for the churning nausea, for the cold sweat on her palms. She squeezed her eyes tight until red lights popped in her field of vision. If she really tried, she could convince herself that these were the usual nerves before a job, but what was the point of that when she knew their true origin?

 _“You frame him, I walk.”_ Lou’s words echoed over and over in Debbie’s head. But Lou had decided to stay, hadn’t she? She was still here, working through her part of the job with her usual precision. She understood, Debbie was sure of that. And yet…It was _guilt_ tearing at Debbie’s insides. Lou didn’t deserve her. Lou deserved complete honesty, deserved compromise and collaboration, deserved _better_. And yet, two days from now, she would run Debbie’s plan, she would trust every footstep, every move in the game. And Debbie didn’t deserve it, didn’t deserve that kind of trust, no matter how good her plan was – and she _knew_ it was good – she didn’t deserve Lou’s loyalty.

The music masked the sound of footsteps, but gradually, Debbie became aware that the sun was no longer dancing across her face. The light filtering through her eyelids was dimmer now. She felt the floor of the loft settle nearby. _Lou_. She didn’t open her eyes, waited. Her muscles tensed, tautened, tightened. She wanted to run, to flee the fact of Lou’s devotion. But she wouldn’t, she knew that. Neither of them would leave this time, not for very long, anyway. She knew Lou was dreaming of a bike trip, a good long ride – she could see it in her eyes. But after that? Well, it wouldn’t be over, that was for sure.

“Debs?” Lou’s voice sounded very far away, much less present than the music floating out of the record player.

Debbie twitched her mouth in the echo of a smile.

“You okay?” Lou asked.

“Mm hmm.” Debbie still didn’t open her eyes. She adjusted her back against the hardwood floor. 

“You sure?”

“Yes.” Debbie answered too quickly and winced.

She heard Lou crouch down next to her. “What’s up?”

“Nothing,” Debbie said lightly. “Just relaxing.”

“You’re _thinking_.”

“Mm. I suppose that’s a reasonable deduction,” Debbie agreed in an intentionally haughty tone. She wanted Lou close, but at the same time, she didn’t want to be cared for. Lou was always too kind.

“Talk to me?”

Debbie shook her head.

Lou gave an exasperated sigh. “Come on, Debs. You can’t just lie here all day.”

“Why not?”

“’Cause I don’t want you to. Come on. Get up.” Lou’s hands found hers and tugged. Debbie resisted half-heartedly for a moment and then let herself be pulled into a seated position. She blinked her eyes open and scowled.

“I’m _fine_ , baby,” she insisted.

“Didn’t say you weren’t,” Lou said, tucking Debbie’s hair behind her ears.

“I was just going over it again, making sure,” Debbie told her.

“No, you weren’t.”

“Yes, I was,” Debbie replied.

Lou rolled her eyes. “Debbie, when you go over a job, you talk to yourself and stare into space. When you want to think, you lie on the floor with your eyes closed. I _know_ you.”

Debbie blinked. “I was thinking _about_ the job.” It wasn’t exactly a lie.

“Cut the bullshit, Ocean. What’s bothering you?”

Debbie shook her head. “I don’t want to talk about it.”

Lou narrowed her eyes. “It’s me, isn’t it.”

“Why would you think that?” Debbie asked through a sigh. She was careful to make eye contact.

“Because I _know_ you, Debbie, and I know when you’re feeling guilty about something.”

“I’m n—”

“It’s about Becker, isn’t it?”

“ _Fine_ ,” Debbie conceded. “Fine. You said I was scared. I’m still scared, and…” She swallowed. “And I didn’t tell you when I should have, and _you’re still here_. You stayed. I don’t—”

“I decide where I need to be, alright? You don’t get to decide that for me,” Lou said harshly. Debbie stared at her, taken aback at her tone. “I _want_ to be here,” Lou added more softly. 

“How can you forgive me?” Debbie asked quietly, surprised that the words made it past her lips.

Lou gave her a small smile and pressed her forehead into Debbie’s. “Oh, Jailbird,” she said. “It was easy.”

“ _How_ , Lou?”

Lou took a deep breath. “You said he hurt you.”

“Yeah, so—?”

“He _hurt_ you.”

“Yes, that’s what I said, but—”

“That’s _it_ , Debs,” Lou said through a bemused laugh. “That’s it. He hurt you, and you didn’t – don’t – know how to deal with it, and you made a mistake. That’s _all_. But he hurt you, so I forgive you for bringing him into it. I do. I thought I made that clear the other day.”

Debbie smiled, remembered the way Lou had hovered over her, the way their bodies had moved together. She blushed. “You did, baby,” she told her. “Of course, you did.” She raised her hands from the floor and wrapped them around Lou’s neck. “You did.”

“Come on, get up,” Lou said again, tugging at Debbie’s loose long-sleeve shirt.

Debbie clutched her harder, didn’t want Lou to move just yet, because she was warm against her chest, steadying.

“Have it your way,” Lou said, exasperated. Before Debbie could protest, she slipped one arm around her back and the other under her knees and lifted her.

Debbie smiled and buried her face in Lou’s neck. It hurt a little to be cared for like this; that was why she tried to avoid it. But then, whenever it came down to it, her entire body would melt for Lou Miller, and that was equal parts frustrating and exhilarating. Lou walked to the couch and set Debbie upon it. Before she could straighten up, Debbie pulled her down on top of her. Lou met her gaze, amused. She repositioned herself with her hips between Debbie’s legs, leaning over her. Her eyes flicked to Debbie’s lips. Debbie heard her own breath hitch. She reached out and cupped Lou’s cheek.

“You stayed,” she whispered, still marveling and just a little uncertain of how Lou could trust her after she had withheld the entire plan.

“I stayed,” Lou echoed. Her voice sounded heavy. Debbie licked her lips, which had suddenly gone very dry. Lou shifted closer until Debbie could feel her breath against her cheek. And then…

Debbie sighed into the kiss and let everything else fall away. She doubted that she would ever understand why kissing Lou allowed her brain to stop whirring. The pressure of Lou’s mouth was steady and firm, not pushing forward to chase heat – not _yet_ , anyway. One hand found its way under Debbie’s shirt to settle on the bare skin of her waist, holding her. Debbie felt a moan escape from her own throat to vibrate against Lou’s mouth. Lou’s free hand slipped under Debbie’s head to cradle the back of her neck, fingers curling into her hair. Dimly, Debbie registered that music was still floating through the room from the record player, but she knew Bach too well to let it distract her. If anything, it gave the corners of her mind something to focus on so the rest of her brain could focus on Lou – the tug of Lou’s fingers in her hair, the smoothness of her skin as Debbie ran a hand up her back, the tingling sensation that spread to her fingertips and toes as Lou nibbled her lower lip. Her body felt heavy and warm under Lou’s weight, and Debbie didn’t think she could open her eyes even if she tried. Lou mumbled something inaudible against Debbie’s mouth. It took Debbie a long time to register the sound – minutes, probably, in which Lou continued to kiss her, and Debbie kissed back fervently. At last, her brain caught up, and she realized she wanted to know what Lou had said.

“What was that, baby?” she asked. She was careful to keep her lips against Lou’s, but Lou pulled away for a moment. Debbie leaned forward to chase her mouth. Lou moved her hand and cupped Debbie’s jaw, swiping her thumb across Debbie’s kiss-swollen lower lip.

“Your lips.”

“Mm?”

“They’re soft,” Lou murmured, stroking her thumb back and forth. Debbie kept her eyes closed, felt the warmth that had spread throughout her body settle in the pit of her stomach. “I could kiss them – you – all day,” Lou added.

Debbie smiled. “Please do, baby,” she murmured in reply. Her voice rasped slightly. Lou leaned forward and sucked Debbie’s lower lip into her mouth, rolling it once and tugging before kissing her properly once more. Debbie smiled and parted her lips wider, let Lou plunge deeper. This time the tension built between them, and Debbie felt the tingling flow more directly to her core. She pressed her hips up into Lou’s and was unsurprised when Lou ground down in response.

“Debs?” Lou’s voice sounded far away, and Debbie realized she had fallen further into her sensations. She pulled herself back.

“Lou,” she muttered.

Lou didn’t pull away this time, kept her mouth on Debbie’s as she spoke. “You asked how I forgave you.”

There was a hint of urgency in Lou’s tone that Debbie didn’t quite understand. “Yeah,” she replied, a little nonplussed.

“You…” Lou hesitated. “You know I trust you.” She paused the kiss to rest her cheek against Debbie’s.

“I…” Debbie wanted to say yes, but a prickle of unease persisted at the back of Debbie’s mind.

“Debs, there was never any question, and I…” Lou clutched Debbie closer. “I’m not sorry for the things I said, because they were true, but I _do_ trust you. I always have, I…”

“Sh, baby, that’s enough,” Debbie assured her. She turned her head to capture Lou’s lips once more, kissing her hard, and trying to say all the things she was feeling through the movement of her mouth. Lou’s lips trembled, and she took a deep breath after a moment.

“Honey,” Lou began, voice even deeper now.

“Mm hmm?”

“Tie me up?”

Debbie felt her eyes open in surprise. Her heart beat violently in her chest. “Wh-what?” she stammered. “Lou…”

“I _trust_ you, Debs, and you need to understand that.”

“And?”

“ _And_ I want you to,” Lou said more softly.

“Want me to…?” Debbie teased.

“Want you to tie me up,” Lou said seriously. “I want _you_ , to tie me up,” she reiterated, breath tickling Debbie’s ear.

Debbie thought about it. Theoretically (and _deeply_ ), Debbie believed in Lou’s trust, believed that Lou’s loyalty was a privilege that she had – somehow – earned. Practically, however, Debbie worried that her apparent ability to take Lou for granted in the matter of Claude Becker’s involvement would be enough of a betrayal to break that bond. Her mind – always in overdrive – presented reason after reason that Lou’s trust in her should fade, and Debbie was starting to believe the unease. She needed a reset, needed to regain some control over her own insecurities.

“Say it again,” Debbie requested. “Please.”

Lou planted a line of kisses from Debbie’s ear to the corner of her mouth. “Tie. Me. Up,” she murmured, lips moving against Debbie’s.

Arousal shot through Debbie like an electric shock. She shivered. “Yes,” she whispered. “ _God_ , yes.”

**

Lou tasted like mint gum and cigarettes. Debbie knew she was trying to quit, that she had one pack left and was going through it slowly. She had smoked one yesterday; Debbie remembered watching her, admiring the curl of her lips and the grace of her hands. She hadn’t had one since then, but there was still a hint of tobacco, nicotine, paper on her tongue. Maybe it wasn’t cigarettes; maybe it was just the taste of her, and Debbie hadn’t realized until now.

Lou lay spread-eagled on her back, and Debbie moved over her, tracing her angles with her fingers and tongue. Once in a while, Lou raised a hand to run her fingers through Debbie’s hair or to reciprocate a soft touch, but Debbie didn’t want any distractions. Each time, she intertwined her fingers with Lou’s and gently set her wandering hand back on the bedspread. She took her time sliding Lou’s shirt up her torso, kissing every newly-revealed inch of skin, working marks that showed up dark red on Lou’s stomach and ribs and just beneath her breasts. Debbie glanced up at her and paused, hands toying with the rolled-up hem of Lou’s shirt. Lou’s eyes were stormy, and she was biting her lip.

“Want you,” she murmured as Debbie met her gaze.

Debbie grinned and pushed Lou’s shirt over her breasts, immediately fastening her lips around one coral-pink nipple and flicking her tongue against the hardening flesh. Lou arched her back, pressing her chest towards Debbie. The response of Lou’s body elicited a wave of warmth in Debbie’s blood. She cupped Lou’s opposite breast in her palm, caressing before she pinched the nipple and rolled it between her fingers, raising it just like the one between her lips. She could stay here all day, but eventually she released Lou’s nipple with a pop and blew cool air over it. Lou shivered. She pushed Lou’s shirt higher, and Lou helped to remove it, emerging tousle-haired and bare a moment later. Debbie pressed herself into her, rolled her body against her and felt Lou reciprocate the gesture, undulating like water. Lou groaned, and Debbie swallowed the sound with her lips on Lou’s. Her hands moved aimlessly, sliding down Lou’s arms, carding through her hair, scratching up her sides and raising goosebumps in their wakes. Lou was writhing and whimpering by the time Debbie made her way back down her body, darkening the marks she had made before to make sure they lasted, to make sure they were still there on Monday night as a reminder – a reminder of what? Debbie wasn’t sure beyond the fact that she knew part of Lou belonged to her, and part of her belonged to Lou.

She reached the waistband of Lou’s jeans, which rode low on her hips held up by a brown leather belt with a large round buckle. Debbie undid it with swift fingers and unfastened her pants. She could smell Lou’s arousal as she pressed her nose to Lou’s silk boy short panties. Debbie mouthed at them, close to where Lou wanted her, but still frustratingly far away. Lou’s hips bucked, and Debbie placed a steady hand on her pelvis, holding her in place as she nibbled a line of marks between Lou’s hip bones. Lou was panting by the time she finished, staring down at Debbie with heavy-lidded eyes. Slowly, savoring the warmth of Lou’s skin, Debbie slid her hands around the inside of Lou’s pants. Lou raised her hips, and Debbie slipped the denim down her legs, placing kisses at random along her thighs. Her panties came next, and then Lou was naked before her, and Debbie reveled in the thrill of kneeling fully-clothed between her legs.

“You…,” she whispered, running her palms up and down Lou’s thighs. She looked sideways at the pile of Lou’s scarves that she had collected when they entered the bedroom.

“I’m ready, honey,” Lou said before Debbie could ask.

Debbie smiled.

**

Debbie appreciated Lou’s scarf collection – silk, mostly, in various patterns and colors, and always expensive. It contrasted with the grungy edges of Lou’s chosen style, heightened everything she wore to a kind of art form that Debbie had no desire to compete with. Scarves were more than a splash of color for Lou Miller, they were a hint at something she kept hidden, at the softer side of her that Debbie knew so well. Her perfume always clung to the silk, mixing with cigarette smoke and the scent of Lou’s skin. Debbie resisted the urge to raise each scarf to her nose, to bury her face and breathe her in. Instead, she let each piece flow through her hands and then over Lou’s skin. She was grateful for the bedposts on Lou’s bed – perfect for securing each swatch of fabric. The fibers tugged at each other, but they were strong, and Debbie knew how to tie a good knot. Lou flexed her fingers.

“Okay?” Debbie asked, eyes darting between the forest green around Lou’s right wrist and the burgundy around her left.

“Yes.”

She moved to Lou’s legs, wrapped brown and orange silk around one ankle and blue and gold around the other. Lou parted her legs expectantly, and Debbie secured her limbs to the bed. Lou tested the knots. She could move a little – enough to show her appreciation for Debbie’s touch. Perfect. With Lou at her mercy, Debbie took a deep breath and let it out through her nose. A thousand possibilities raced through her head. She could make Lou beg, bring her to the edge a dozen times and then pull her back over and over until she finally, _finally_ let her tip over the edge. She could tease her for hours, let her climb slowly until she was sweating and shaking. Both of those ideas would be satisfying, but Debbie settled on something else.

“How many times can you come, baby?” she asked, watching her finger paint invisible spirals around Lou’s right knee.

“I…I don’t know,” Lou said, she sounded surprised at her own answer. “No one’s ever wanted to find out. I’ve never…” Debbie heard her swallow hard, and she looked up at her, registering a contemplative expression on Lou’s face. “I’ve never wanted anyone to try.”

Debbie continued to move her fingers gently. “Do you want me to try?” she asked.

Lou thought for a moment, then nodded. “Yeah, Debs,” she said. “I do.”

A little bit of the tension in Debbie’s muscles dissipated with Lou’s words. She was letting Debbie in, just like she always did. She wanted Debbie in a way she hadn’t wanted anyone else. That was more than trust, that was…But Debbie didn’t let herself get caught up in words. She had a job to do, after all, and she set to it at once, licked her way up the inside of Lou’s right thigh and nuzzled her nose against her.

“You smell good,” she murmured. She didn’t give Lou a chance to respond, licked through her folds with the flat of her tongue and then sucked her into her mouth, tongue swirling. Lou moaned, and Debbie felt her wetness increase under her chin.

“Your _tongue_ ,” Lou said through a gasp.

Debbie smiled against her and brought her hands to the tops of Lou’s thighs. She massaged her with her thumbs without ceasing the rhythm of her tongue, and Lou’s gasp turned to a whimper of pleasure.

“ _Fuck_.”

Debbie dipped her tongue lower, dipped _into_ her. Lou strained against the scarves, pressed her hips towards Debbie’s mouth. Debbie followed her encouragement, moved her tongue in smooth strokes from her entrance to her clit, where she lingered longer each time, sucking and circling the tip of her tongue. It didn’t take long for Lou’s thighs to tremble, for the muscles in her abdomen to clench, for her whimpers to become cries. Debbie looked up at her, traced the curve of Lou’s throat with her gaze as she threw her head back and found her release in Debbie’s mouth.

Debbie licked over her as Lou’s shaking ceased. She teased Lou’s entrance with two fingers, gathering her wetness and spreading it. As Lou’s eyes flickered open and found Debbie’s, Debbie thrust into her, curling her fingers. Lou gave a shuddering moan, sensitive nerves responding immediately to Debbie’s touch. Debbie curled her fingers tighter and stroked her, resting her cheek against Lou’s thigh and giving her jaw a break.

“You look amazing when you come,” Debbie told her. “Do it again.” 

The flush on Lou’s cheeks darkened at the words. Debbie continued to massage her, felt her open around her fingers. “More,” Lou said in a strained voice.

Debbie added a third finger and thrust deeper. Without dislodging her fingers, she moved over Lou, bringing her lips to her neck and nibbling under her ear. Lou’s body pushed up against her own, and Debbie felt her own clothed breasts brush against Lou’s naked ones. Debbie rotated her wrist and pressed her thumb to Lou’s clit. She thrust steadily, registered the rhythmic roll of Lou’s hips beneath her. She was close again. Pulling back for a moment, Debbie saw a look of intense concentration on Lou’s face – brow furrowed, lip caught between her teeth. Her wrist began to ache, but she didn't change her rhythm. Anything was worth seeing Lou like this, watching her fall apart.

“Let go, baby,” Debbie whispered. “Let go for me.”

Lou gave a strangled cry as her body jerked and shook.

“I like the sounds you make,” Debbie murmured.

Lou laughed breathlessly as she relaxed into the mattress once more. “I don’t know how much more I can—”

“One more, baby,” Debbie whispered. “One more, okay?” she thrust her fingers in and out of Lou, slow and steady.

“Okay,” Lou agreed, “but I don’t know if I can c—”

“I don’t care,” Debbie told her. She placed a kiss under Lou’s ear and felt her shiver. “I just want you to try. For me.”

Lou moaned at the words. “Anything for you.”

And Debbie believed her, knew that sex only scratched the surface of what Lou meant. Lou didn’t follow blindly, wasn’t afraid to reel Debbie in or offer caution. She _would_ walk if she thought the job was too risky, if she thought Debbie was in over her head. Not to abandon Debbie – no, never that – but to save her. She would walk because Debbie would never – never from now on – go through with anything without her. Debbie had made that decision in prison, and even though she hadn’t explicitly explained it to Lou, she suddenly understood that Lou knew that, too. Lou trusted Debbie to stop, trusted Debbie to listen.

“Debs?” Lou prompted. “You okay?” 

Debbie blinked, refocused on Lou, realizing that her fingers were still inside her, but that she was no longer moving, just staring at Lou’s face as her mind sifted through facts. “You _do_ trust me,” Debbie said.

“Uh…yeah,” Lou said, looking bemused. “You don’t think I’d let just anyone tie me up, do you?”

Debbie shook her head. “But…you thought I’d stop if you walked, you trusted me to…to…”

“Need me?”

“Every step of the way.”

“The only way it works, you said,” Lou reminded her.

“Exactly.” Debbie said. “But I _didn’t_ stop. We’re still—”

Lou shrugged. “Semantics. I needed you to explain it.”

“That’s…that’s…” Debbie broke off and pressed her lips together, searching for a word to describe what she felt. She head was reeling.

“Debs?”

“Mm hmm?”

“Fuck me.”

Debbie snapped back to the present – to the jewel-toned silk around Lou’s wrists and ankles, to the velvet heat around her fingers, to the beating of Lou’s heart mere inches from her own. She hovered her mouth over Lou’s and drew her fingers from inside her, watched every flicker of reaction in Lou’s eyes as she spread her moisture, circling her clit. She heard a hiss of breath as Lou’s hips twitched. Lou’s skin was warm even through Debbie’s clothes, and she suddenly wanted to feel her, _all_ of her. She sat back on her heels, pulled off her shirt, and unhooked her bra. She tossed them aside and removed her pants quickly, without ceremony. Lou watched her, eyes growing heavy once more.

“So fucking beautiful,” Lou whispered.

Debbie blushed. “Just want to—”

“I know.”

Debbie flung herself on top of her once more and locked their lips together. Her own blood was singing, and Lou’s skin sliding against her own was like a stimulant. She moaned as Lou nibbled her lower lip. A second later, she was kissing her way down Lou’s body, pausing to suck each nipple into a pebble, to graze her teeth over her ribcage and hipbones. Debbie met Lou’s gaze as she entered her with two fingers and simultaneously sucked her clit into her mouth. Lou attempted to flail, clearly responding to the oversensitivity of her nerves after two orgasms, but Debbie didn’t let up. She knew Lou would tell her if it was too much. The taste of her fed Debbie’s arousal until she was rolling her hips into the bedspread beneath her. Lou moaned again, and the sound made Debbie’s clit pulse. Almost without thinking, she slid her free hand under herself and circled her clit with two fingers.

“Is that what I do to you?” Lou managed to gasp.

Debbie ground herself against her own hand and paused for a moment to look up at Lou’s face. “Yes,” she answered simply.

Lou grinned and let her head tilt back onto the bedspread. Debbie fastened her lips around her once more and added a third finger inside her. At the same moment, she sank the hand between her own legs a little lower to tease her entrance. She panted through her nose – everything was on the edge of too much, too intense. Debbie stroked herself more urgently and maintained the ceaseless counterpoint of her tongue and fingers.

“I’m close,” Lou muttered.

Debbie kept sucking, barely aware of the precise movements of her body anymore as pleasure ebbed and flowed between her thighs, as Lou trembled. She felt herself teetering on the edge, silently begged Lou to be there with her.

Lou seemed to read her mind. “Come with me?”

Debbie nodded vigorously and nudged Lou’s clit with her teeth. She plunged her fingers a deep as they could go into Lou and herself. The pressure inside her built as Lou’s thighs trembled once more. With a final suck to Lou’s clit, Debbie heard her cry out just as she pushed herself over the edge, palm tight against her arousal. Debbie kept her mouth on Lou, kept her fingers stroking gently, until Lou flailed her legs against their bonds, trying to close them from overstimulation. Debbie laughed against her and then pushed herself up to kneel between Lou’s legs, wiping her mouth and chin with the back of her hand. Lou stared at her, panting and glassy-eyed. Debbie fingered the blue and gold silk on Lou’s right ankle.

“May I?” she asked.

Lou nodded, clearly still recovering the ability to speak. Debbie undid each knot and carefully folded the scarves. Lou flexed her toes and fingers and reached for her. Debbie fell into her arms with a sigh. Her heart was still pounding, elated by Lou’s pleasure and by the realization that Lou’s trust was unconditional, permanent.

“Hey,” she murmured, looking up into Lou’s face.

“Hey,” Lou replied with a smile. “That was…”

Debbie blushed and buried her face in Lou’s chest. “You seemed to like it.” Her voice came out muffled against Lou’s skin.

“That’s an understatement.” Lou stroked Debbie’s back.

Debbie closed her eyes. “You do trust me,” she murmured after a moment, echoing her words from earlier.

“Obviously.”

Debbie hummed a laugh and then sighed. “I’m sorr—” 

“Stop apologizing.”

“—about bringing Claude in without telling y—”

“ _Stop_ ,” Lou reiterated. She pinched Debbie’s waist.

Debbie fell silent. Lou’s hand moved like water over her back, soothing away the last vestiges of insecurity. She took a deep breath and let it out slowly. In forty-eight hours, they would run the heist of their lives, and it was going to work. _It was going to work_ , because she had Lou beside her. Everything would be alright. Gradually, she became aware that the movements of Lou’s fingers had become more purposeful, tracing sensitive areas, slipping along her sides and between them to graze Debbie’s nipples. At last, Lou tugged on her arms.

“Get up here,” she said.

Debbie smiled knowingly, not opening her eyes. “You sure?”

“Sit on my face, Deborah,” Lou said in mock exasperation. Debbie didn’t need further encouragement. She shifted off of Lou’s chest and knelt above her, gripping the headboard to steady herself as she lowered her hips. The first touch of Lou’s tongue to her arousal sent a wave of heat through her. 

“ _Fuck_ ,” she gasped.

Lou began moving in earnest, and Debbie moved with her, allowed her mind to focus on nothing but Lou’s mouth, on the little moans emanating from Lou’s throat and vibrating against her, on the rhythm of her hips, on the tight grip of Lou’s fingers on her thighs. The heat built in her core, flooded every part of her, blurred her thoughts, until she was trembling and shaking. And Lou knew how to draw it out, how to bring her to plateau after plateau of pleasure, climbing higher and higher until there was nowhere left for her to go. Stars burst in front of her, around her, _through_ her. She shook, and for the first time in her life, she felt a tear trail down her cheek in the wake of her release. Lou wiped it away as Debbie settled into her arms once more, didn’t ask about it, for which Debbie was grateful because she didn’t have an answer. She wasn’t sad, she knew that. If anything, she was happier than she had ever been in her life. She tasted herself on Lou’s tongue, curled into her and felt sleep pressing at the corners of her mind. Lighter than air, Debbie dozed off with Lou’s lips still caressing her own.

**Author's Note:**

> Can't believe we're nearing the end of this series! There will be one more fic next week for the Toybox.
> 
> **
> 
> Many thanks to my wife go_get_your_top_hat for always beta-ing <3 :)
> 
> I'm going to close requests for this series just because I have 20 to work with. Never fear! I will still be writing for Debbie and Lou, so if you have any general ideas (or toy ideas, for that matter - I don't mind writing more toy fics, they just won't be in this series necessarily), please let me know in a comment on here or find me on tumblr at estel-of-irysi (I'm also on Instagram - hope_savaria).
> 
> Here's a link to a post that lists all of the toybox fics (including upcoming ones). You should be able to view it even if you don't have Tumblr: https://estel-of-irysi.tumblr.com/post/615735135044796416/heistwives-toybox-final-list
> 
> Kudos and comments make my day! Thank you for reading.


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